


Treat

by itsmadeofgold



Series: Gogo!AU [2]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Kradam, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-25
Updated: 2011-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmadeofgold/pseuds/itsmadeofgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A timestamp in the gogo!AU:  the moment Adam first saw Kris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treat

Adam was considering his options. He felt kind of tired, a little worn out, and still more than a little pissy from his disappointing-to-say-the-least outing the night before, and while dancing helped a little, he really didn't feel as into it as he should. As he usually did. As usual when his emotions were running high he had gotten a little carried away in getting ready tonight. Getting pretty was his therapy, and today's simmering frustration had resulted in what he liked to call his "disco ball look." He loved the feeling that he was _shining_ , that he was nothing but glinting silver from head-to-toe, that his shimmer would call the attention of every man in the room. You'd think that would be enough to make this night worthwhile, to keep him engaged, but there was just something _off_ that he couldn't shake. He felt bored.

He kept the mask on, though, while he danced and thought. He smiled flirtatiously at nobody in particular, kept his hips moving, felt the beat moving up through the platform into his legs and let it direct him. The beat was always there, in the back of his mind and running through his blood, keeping him moving as surely as if it were a message straight from his brain. But tonight it felt less like he was one with the music and more like he was being pushed around. Less like home and more like work. He could power through it, though, he knew. Just keep dancing as usual, finish up his shift like a good boy and go home. He knew Megan would be here before the end of the night, though, wanting him to go with her to the Rec Room after all the other clubs had closed. He really didn't feel like seeing Megan at all; he was still mad at her for her part in ruining his Friday night - he reminded himself to send her the cleaning bill for his car - and as much as dancing-and-more-dancing was his routine, he kind of felt like groaning at the very idea tonight.

He felt itchy, like he needed something new but didn't know what it was. Really, what could he possibly want? He didn't have to work for money, he spent every possible moment partying and dancing and doing whatever the hell he pleased. He was young and beautiful and chased and lusted after by more men than he could even keep track of. He was utterly free. There was nothing to itch _for_ , and feeling bored and unsatisfied was just frustrating. He was used to having what he wanted, and not really knowing what he wanted at this moment was making him cranky.

Maybe a night in would do the trick, he mused. Maybe he could take a night off from his scene and just watch a movie and eat ice cream or something. Is that what people did when they had nothing more interesting to do? Maybe his life was too full of interesting, and what he was itching for was some boring. He laughed at that; it sounded silly in his mind. Really, he'd always felt _sorry_ for people who sat around like that. Lonely people and old married couples, sitting on their asses, feeling them get fatter underneath them. He shuddered at the thought. Thank _God_ his life had more substance than _that_.

The song changed and Adam's body reacted without his mind having to send the message. His sway slowed as the music went from a pounding rhythm to a sexy groove; he rolled his head around on his shoulders, licking his lips as he felt his body adjust to the feel of the new beat. It was more to his liking than the last one had been; less demanding, more thoughtful or something. More in tune with his mood. He decided it was time to shake off this rut once and for all, that this itching didn't suit him. He needed a distraction. He needed a boy to play with.

He let his eyes scan the room, surveying the clientele like it was a buffet. _No, no, yech, no thanks, not again..._ and then _oh, what have we here?_

How had he not noticed this adorable little treat sitting right in front of him? That's what he got for letting himself get lost in his angsty musings, he thought. He had never seen the boy at the table directly opposite him before; he was cute to the point of painful, with soft brown eyes, disheveled brown hair and plump pink lips just begging to be bitten. He had this adorably clueless thing going on - I mean, really, who wears _plaid_ to a bar on a Saturday night? But it seemed to work on him somehow; it suggested that he wasn't trying to impress anybody, that he was just here as himself with no agenda.

But what Adam liked about him best of all was the look on his face. He was watching him intently, unselfconsciously, his mouth practically hanging open in his unmasked appreciation of a mostly-naked stranger. He didn't even notice that Adam was looking back at him at first; he seemed lost in his own mind. Adam wondered what he was thinking; he loved it when boys daydreamed about him. And then the boy seemed to snap back into himself, startled to realize that Adam was looking straight back at him. Adam smiled at the flustered look that came over him and decided it was time goose him a little and see what happened.

He threw his shoulders back and let himself roll all the way down, dragging it out for maximum effect, giving his new toy an intense stare the whole time as he gauged his reaction and relished the look of lust-filled awe that he seemed helpless to contain. He was so unfiltered, so out there with his interest, it was endearing and exciting for Adam. When Adam popped his hips and winked at him, the boy responded with a bewildered shake of his head, seeming to have to remind himself to breathe, a blush starting at his hairline and working all the way down his neck, spreading over the lovely bit of collarbone visible at the opening of his shirt.

 _Oh, he's just too delicious_ , Adam thought, laughing. He looked away then, not wanting to give away too much or seem too interested. But he knew he'd found his project for the evening. Unwrapping this sweet little snack was going to be a whole hell of a lot more fun than dancing.


End file.
